Harry Breaks His Chains
by Bediz
Summary: ...and goes to the Diagon Alley, gets a bloodline test, visits the Potter vault, buys a new wand, gets a new trunk, a suit of armor, etc. You know how it goes.


Harry Potter was preparing for war! And the first thing to do was to get some supplies from the Diagon Alley. He visited Gringott's and while he was there, out of the blue, he wanted to check who had stolen money from him despite he hadn't done so in the previous six times he had been to the bank. Why? He had no idea at all. Surely somebody must have stolen from him, right? Well, the transaction records had nothing incriminating on anybody.

Then he wanted to get his bloodline tested in a fucking bank! Why banks substitute health institues in the Magical Community, you may not ask. He had to be related to Griffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff at least. Merlin was a probability. Well, he was related to them all, but as it turned out, everybody was. Even some of the goblins which was a really disturbing thought. Come on, he was related to a goblin for fuck's sake! Distant though it might be. He asked if he could access Griffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Merlin vaults. The goblin gave him a scathing look, as if he was pronouncing him mentally insufficient. Or he was smiling at him, one could never know with these miscreants. Then the explanation came; there was no Gringott's back when those five bloodlines still carried those names. Afterward, the money had been spent, the artifacts bequeathed, jewelry gifted and so on. Harry did feel retarded.

Then he asked if there was a Potter vault, because, frankly, a heap of golden Galleons couldn't have been anything more than a trust vault, right? He was right and there was a Potter vault deep in the recesses of the bank that contained, of all things, furniture. I mean, come on! Why would someone go to all the trouble of carrying furniture down there? Hey, how DID they carry furniture down there anyway? It was momentarily stupid! Well, there were a few useful looking things, though, so it wasn't a total bust. There was a claymore that looked breath-takingly wicked. It was surely goblin made, because anything less than that would've been totally not worth taking the trip. So universe had bended over backwards for him and provided him with a bone to gnaw at.

He shopped for books, a lot of books. They were all on Dark Arts. It wasn't as though a curse that made someone's blood boil within his veins and arteries and heart evil, right? Or the one that skinned a man alive until you could see his muscles and KEEP him alive and uninfected for as long as the caster wanted. It was purely the intention of the caster. Then again, you could say that there was no good or evil, there was only right and wrong. You could, for example, kill a totally innocent bystander if he got in the way of your objective which transcends morality somehow. And because he got in the way, he was also totally in league with the Dark Forces. Yeah, that's it. He did purchase a lot of dark books which detailed methods of torture and execution to use the said methods on unlikable persons nobody would empathize with, so it was okay. Dudley, for example; he was a pain in Harry's ass, so nobody would care if Harry killed him. Maybe even the contrary, some would enjoy it, the more twisted the method, the better.

Oh, but so many books had to go somewhere, so he visited a shop that specialized on trunks. However many compartments you want, they could provide. So he ordered one compartment for his school things, one for combat potions he would brew perfectly even though he had no talent whatsoever in the art, one for his Dark Arts books, one room for physical training and one room for magical training and a last room for kicking back and relaxing which resembled a library. Why had he ordered it even though he had shown no interest whatsoever previously in reading? Well, easily explained away: because the Dursleys had interfered somehow and made him hate reading. So why did he not hate reading anymore? Hey! Don't question too deeply, you're flaming! Plot hole? Fuck you! I don't have to explain everything to you!

Before he departed though, he asked the man to put some enchantments on the trunk. It had to be unbreakable, sound proof, bullet proof, everything proof and open only to his finger print. It had to have an enlargement charm on the insides so that he would never run out of space. He had three rooms and people could live in a three-room flat but whatever, he just wanted, so…

Before he left the Diagon Alley, he took the turn to the Knockturn Alley because, well, it was cool breaking the rules, right, even though he might be risking his ass and his life literally? Well, the universe would cut him some slack because he was oh-so-adorable-and-pitiful. Miraculously there was no threat to his life and he saw a disreputable wand shop which he was sure had the most powerful on Earth even though the best wand-maker on Earth was Ollivender, and after him, recently retired Gregorovitch. There was a wand manufactured out of three different cool trees and contained inside four different cores from four almost mythical creatures. I'm sure you could name three cool trees and four almost mythical creatures yourself, so don't force me to actually think about what I'm writing, okay? So he bought the wand and, oh, I forgot! Somewhere along the way he bought a cool suit of armor which provided both magical and physical protection of epic proportions. Anything save for the Unforgivables would just tickle him somewhat but that was all. One last thing, he had no idea how the Ministry kept tabs on people on the underage spell casting issue but he guessed it was the wand, so he was free to cast whatever spell he wanted. His guesses were always a hundred percent accurate and chance was his bitch.

Well, he placed everything in his trunk and tapped the trunk with his wand and uttered a Reducio in order to make it fit into his pocket. Which wand? Of course with the new wand, stupid! Otherwise the Ministry would get a whiff of what he was doing, not to mention the evil and manipulative and bastardly and dastardly Dumbles. He wondered what Moldyshorts was doing, not because it had anything to do with the plot but he just wanted to reduce the assumed and well-earned name which struck fear into the heart of almost everybody into something funny. Oh, I just found another reason! Dumbles and Moldyshorts were somewhat alike, so… It must be some kind of mental schemata thing.

Now where was I? Yeah, he pocketed the trunk, took the bus to Privet Drive and enlarged the trunk in his room again. On his way up, he fought with his relatives or something too and thoroughly kicked their ass verbally.

Then he began to train both physically and magically, and because there was a tempus charm on the trunk even though I haven't mentioned Harry ordering that before –don't tell me the only person who was capable of that particular feet would have to be an Unspeakable and an Unspeakable wouldn't be working as a trunk maker because then you're flaming!- he could train a week within and a relatively smaller amount of time would pass without. I'm not sure how much time, exactly but you'll have to contend yourself with this for now. I'll think about it later.

So he was inside the whole summer, which is like, a year of training or something. I don't know if his friends wrote him letters or where he got the food from. He probably had some stocked and who cares about friends anyhow? They're all backstabbing bastards because I, the author, don't personally like them.

When he tried to get out, the lid was jammed. He cast a cool and colorful and powerful spell to destroy the lid. I would've loved to say he managed but he had ordered it spell proof and surely someone who can cast time-bending charms can also make something spell proof- no exception. He tried to force it open because now he had killer looks and all the right muscles with a gorilla's strength but it was kind of very resistant to kinetic force. He banged on the lid but the trunk was sound proof. So he starved to death.

Meanwhile out of the trunk and in the house…

Petunia asked Vernon where the boy was. Vernon replied he didn't know but he at least didn't have any tool to do the 'M' thing because he'd locked the freak's trunk, chain and padlock, so they were safe…

...

Oh, he had talked nice to goblins and made friends with them but I don't think that's relevant information anymore...


End file.
